2006-03-21 - 2:04 p.m.
Before Dark
The moment fire took hold
the doe stopped dead in the drive,
staring up at a hole made by flame
consuming piled debris
now placed in her path.
She could not have foreseen
this disruption to her world
so stilled by a storm, despite
following my boot-prints up from the road.
Tail flicking, wary of change,
she stood looking towards the place
where only the night before she had bedded,
making an impression in grass
now filled like a grave in the snow.
I watched her watching fire,
both of us temporarily at rest,
before she turned and stepped lightly away
to the woods, leading me to trail her in thought
of how similar we are: moving moment
to moment, continuously altering our tack,
leaving only a trace to be tracked or forgotten.
